Up another little bit today…
Breakfast was the usual (Frosties again, nearly reached the end of the box, shocking).
Lunch was a couple of pancakes (end of the pack) and some apple juice.
I took myself to the Metrocentre this afternoon. That was OK, but I was soon feeling tired and took myself home again. The hot weather definitely isn’t agreeing with me – waiting for the bus home from Gateshead was uncomfortable to say the least. Once I got home, I had a quick ice lolly to cool down a bit before having a relax.
Dinner was a chilli con carne (with the usual hot spice grinder addition, of course), which was followed by a Mars bar.
Early night ahead, as I’m veeerrryyyyy tired….
 Or behind, as I may be typing this tomorrow
 So much so that I didn’t even start a draft of this post
Is there no end to it? Yes, I’ve risked what little remains of my sanity in re-reading yet another Robert Rankin book, in my effort to complete the Great Robert Rankin Re-read-athon
First published in 1998, this is a follow-up to Sprout Mask Replica. Our narrator, now explicitly named as Robert Rankin manages to get into all manner of interesting situations. As the story opens, he’s incarcerated in a place for the differently sane, and not having a nice time at all.
Once out of there, he proves he’s not mad at all by continuing to talk to his Holy Guardian Sprout Barry, and adopting the persona of the fictional detective Lazlo Woodbine (some call him Laz), on the case of the missing Voodoo Handbag (don’t touch, it bites…).
This leads on to some mortal peril thanks to a certain Bill Barnes, who is not a nice person at all, and who’s trying to take over Necrosoft, a company with an interesting line in selling immortality of a kind.
Much confusion, chaos and err, other things possibly beginning with c follow, as Laz, or Rob, or whoever he is at any given moment, fights for survival, sanity and err, other things possibly beginning with s.
All good fun, as always.